


out (but not free)

by SeventhStrife



Category: Oxenfree
Genre: Angst, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Bargaining, F/M, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, Jonas is So Confused, PTSD, Pining, Rating May Change, References to Depression, Time Loop, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2018-10-17 19:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10600446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeventhStrife/pseuds/SeventhStrife
Summary: While everyone is doing their best to move on from Edward's Island, Alex alone seems stuck in the past. Everyone deals with trauma in their own way, Jonas knows. But with Alex...why does he get the feeling this is something more?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who else wasn't ready for Oxenfree?

“Hey, um...Are you...are you okay?”

_ Why do you care?  _ The thought is sudden, biting, and guilt comes almost as quickly as the bitterness. She swallows a sigh, doesn’t tear her eyes from the water lapping at the ferry, the morning sun making the churning waves glint like gold.

“I’m fine,” she says, the words like dust in her mouth. She’s so tired. But this time...she just might get to sleep. At least a little bit.

The rustle of fabric; Jonas shuffling nervously. 

“It’s just—you got kinda quiet after we talked and I’m sorry for like, not knowing you, I guess? I mean, I really  _ was  _ with Ren all night but—”

Alex straightens from her slump against the railing and looks Jonas in his worried dark eyes for as long as she can stand it, to make sure he knows she’s sincere.

“I’m  _ fine  _ Jonas, really.” She looks away, back to the water. “I was just confused. It’s been a long night.” 

She doesn’t even know why she tried, really. She  _ knew  _ what he would say the moment she tried to insist they knew one another. But...even after all this time, a part of her rebels against all their experiences together, all the terror, all the  _ memories— _ being gone. Just like that.

She really is a spoiled little girl.

“Well, still.” Oh. Jonas is still here. Why is he talking to her…?

Alex looks back to Jonas, brow furrowed. This is new, and while new used to be  _ exciting,  _ now it’s just a promise of something else she’ll endure over and over and over again. 

With her full attention, Jonas shifts his weight to one side, fists buried deep in his pockets. His shoulders are hiked up just a bit, the way he does when he’s uncomfortable. She wants to reach out and touch his arm, assure him everything’s cool, it’s just her, just Alex, but the problem is that she  _ is  _ just Alex and to him, they don’t know each other like that. Her grip tightens on the railing. She wants this moment over and done with.

“I wanted to say thank you, too. You saved me—all of us—and I wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for you.”

“Oh.” Alex musters a smile, waving her hand dismissively. “Don’t mention it. All in a day’s work and all that.”

“Yeah. Yeah, no, I mean, you only took on a bunch of intra-dimensional demonic ghosts trying to use our bodies as their puppets. No biggie.”

A burst of startled laughter leaves Alex at the caustic, flat way Jonas delivers that statement. Jonas is always the same, predictable right until he’s not.

Jonas laughs with her, no doubt relieved to have broken the ice. The laughter fades quietly from her as she watches him.

In a way, it feels like she’s saying goodbye. She watches the way his eyes crinkle at the corners, the quirk of his lips, the slope of his shoulders; she takes in the way the breeze lifts the brown tufts of hair that peek beneath his beanie and the rough edge smoking has lent his laughter. All of it is as familiar as her own face, but she’s...never going to be able to share that closeness again, will she? She can still ensure they grow to be good friends, can make sure they’re still in each other's lives, but she’ll always be chasing a past that was erased so long ago there are times she forgets it herself.

Jonas is calming down, his eyes are focusing back on her and she’s officially starring. But she decides to push it just this once, to will time to linger for just a few more seconds before she has to close the door on what was honestly one of the most meaningful relationships of her life.

Jonas’s brows draw together and that’s it. Moment gone. Bye.

“What? Something on my face?”

“No, no.” Alex breaks eye contact and braces her arms on the railing once more. Her hands dangle in the open, crisp air threading through her fingers. “Just thinking.” Jonas doesn’t move away, so she elaborates, “Everything’s...going to be so different.”

“Hey, it’ll be fine. Nothing that several years of counseling won’t fix.” When Alex just barely cracks a smile, Jonas steps closer, tries in vain to catch her eyes. “Seriously, Alex. I know we don’t know each other that well,” Alex winces, “but it’s over, okay? Pretty soon, this will all be like a bad dream.”

“Hey, Alex!” They both look across the ferry, where the seats are and there’s Ren, jumping up and down and waving like a madman as if there’s an ocean between them instead of a few yards. “Quit hogging the new guy and come selfie with us! Group photo time!”

Jonas quirks a reassuring smile her way and walks over, looking decidedly more at ease talking to Ren, a visible tension finally fully leaving his shoulders. Alex watches them all for a moment, Clarissa and Michael  _ (breathing, smiling, there and  _ **_whole_ ** _ and no matter how many times it’s happened  _ **_this_ ** _ sight always steals her breath) _ , heads tilted towards one another, having a low, private conversation with fond tilts to their lips. Ren standing next to Nona, waxing poetic about proper lighting while Nona pretends not to find him endearing and Jonas rolls his eyes.

She’s happy to have them all here, happy they’re all free, but in this moment, there’s no satisfaction. Just an overwhelming loneliness.

Alex forcibly ignores the thought when it comes. She has every cause to feel this way, but even still, feeling sad while everyone else celebrates makes her feel guilty. Whatever. She has a picture to take.

Alex casts one last look out towards Edward’s Island.

Jonas doesn’t know how right he is. They’re free. She knows from experience that the whole night will fade until the bits and pieces they  _ do  _ recall all seem so bizarre it couldn’t  _ possibly  _ be real. They get to go to sleep, and rise in the morning, and move  _ on.  _ Make new memories, grow up, grow  _ old. _

Which is great, really. It’s what she’s wanted for so long now. But Alex…

“Just a bad dream,” she murmurs, without a flicker of hope in her chest.

She doesn’t get to wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another story that's been on my computer for too long. Posting it is a last-ditch effort to gain the motivation to actually TYPE OUT a story I've already written. We'll see what happens.
> 
> *gasp* A story who's title ISN'T ripped from a random song? Didn't know I had it in me.


	2. Chapter 2

He catches her right when she thinks no one’s looking. 

He’s on his way out the door, just for a smoke break, and he’s shaken his cig halfway out of the package. The door’s open and, as he steps out, he glances back and sees it:

In the living room, at the far end by the fireplace, Ren’s turned away, answering Nona’s call across the house and Alex’s smile just...dies. Her eyes flicker to the ground and Jonas can see her denting the plastic of her cup in a suddenly tense grip. 

Jonas’s eyes widen.  _ What…? _

Then Ren turns back and she’s perfectly normal, laughing and relaxed and so  _ obviously  _ faking it Jonas feels ill from the sight.

Jonas’s brow furrows. It’s only been two days since the island, but Alex never seems far from his thoughts. He  _ knows  _ he spent the whole night with Ren but ever since that conversation on the ferry, Jonas has had these weird...feelings. These strange, half-formed desires plague him, and all he knows is that Alex is at the root of it.

Is it possible that she’s right? That he’s simply forgotten? Time loops are one thing, but forgetting an entire night? How is that even possible? 

The sudden tightening in his chest when he sees Alex slip away can’t be ignored, however, and he tucks his cigarettes away. It can wait, and he has a feeling talking to Alex is a bit time-sensitive.

She doesn’t go far. Jonas finds her in the hallway, far from the birthday banners and general cheer. She’s leaning against the wall, plastic cup set carefully on the carpet at her feet. She’s tapping away at her phone, her skin painted a glowing blue.

Jonas calls when he’s a foot away. “Hey, Alex.”

Alex starts visibly, snapping her head to him with wide eyes. A second later she relaxes into her slouch, a curious yet no less sincere smile on her face.

“Hey, Jonas. What’s up?”

“Just avoiding social interaction like the cool kids do.”

Alex chuckles under her breath, resuming her typing. “Yeah, I hear ya. Don’t get me wrong, it was really sweet of Nona to invite us all over after  Horror Island but I’m kind of...partied out.”

Alex’s smile dims a bit just like before and Jonas feels the lurch in his chest, a visceral  _ need  _ to ease whatever it is that’s haunting her.

“No kidding. Still. It’s nice being reminded we made it out. I mean, it’s Nona’s birthday. We’re moving on.”

Alex is looking at him full on now. Her expression is hard to crack, but there’s something tense about her. She puts her phone away and straightens, that same half-sad smile on her face.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t be pouting.”

“That’s not what I—”

Alex reaches out and pushes his shoulder, just the slightest bit of pressure before it’s gone again.

“I know what you meant, calm down.”

Jonas chuckles, still feeling a bit off-kilter. “Right, yeah.” Why does he feel like he’s missing something? “Guess I’m still pretty nervous.”

“Why? From the island?”

“No. Well, yes, but not just that.” Alex continues to stare at him with confusion and he tucks his hands into his pockets, shrugging uncomfortably. “Just—I’m the new guy in town, I’m in the house of a friend of a friend’s, and despite one _intense_ night of bonding and terror, everyone’s still kind of a stranger to me.”

“I...didn’t think of it like that,” Alex admits. “You seemed pretty cool with Ren.”

“I am, but like, who wouldn’t be? Ren’s a cool dude. But that’s how he is to me. I don’t  _ know  _ any of you guys yet.” Jonas rubs the back of his neck, frustrated with how difficult this is to communicate and how he probably sounds like a whiny kid. “Look, don’t get me wrong. Everyone’s been great, and I’m sure I just need to be patient and we’ll all be good friends in time, it’s just the waiting in-between that’s awkward, you know?”

Ugh. Jonas almost wishes he was back on that god-forsaken island just so he’d be able to walk in any direction and fall off some pier or cliff.   

“Jonas.” He looks up and Alex is just a little closer, arms crossed and hips cocked just so. Her dark brown eyes are fond as she looks at him. “Believe me when I say you have  _ nothing  _ to worry about, okay? Seriously. You laughed at all of Ren’s jokes, so he’s already half in love with you. Clarissa stopped calling you New Guy an hour after meeting you, so if the house caught fire, she  _ probably  _ wouldn’t leave you behind.”

They share a laugh at that, but Alex isn’t done.

“Nona likes you because she’s no longer the only smoker in the group, and Michael told me you’ve got  _ moxie,  _ whatever that is. Point is, everyone  _ already  _ likes you and you’re  _ already  _ good friends. So don’t sweat it.”

A tight coil of tension he hadn’t even known  _ existed  _ unfurls in his chest. The surge of confidence is gladly received after the weeks of stress he’d endured once his dad told him they were moving.

But he can’t resist. “What about you?”

He wants to take back the question as soon as it’s out, but he’s also  _ ridiculously  _ hung up on what Alex’s opinion of him is. Hell if he knows why.

“Me?” Alex blinks, like she’s never even considered it. She shrugs, but the smile tugging on her lips is telling. “Well...you’re funny and smart and sarcastic; what’s not to like?”

_ She thinks I’m smart? _  is the first thing he thinks, and it's difficult to not get hung up on it.  _ Wow. Guess there’s a first time for everything. _

Jonas grins, helplessly blindsided. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” 

They look at each and Jonas sees the exact moment Alex falls back into that dark place in her mind that she seems to be in more often than not. She takes a discrete step away and it’s only then that Jonas notices how close they’d been standing.

“But don’t get lazy, you know?” She avoids eye-contact, rubbing her arm absently. She makes to walk past him, to leave. “It’s not like my opinion is the end-all-be-all. There’s plenty of fish in the sea and all that, so don’t think I’m like, expecting us to be best friends forever—”

“I’d like to,” Jonas says immediately, holding an arm out to stop her from walking away. Alex whips her head to stare at him, lips parted, eyes wide. “Be. Us. Friends. I mean,” he stammers, feeling his face heat. God, why is he so terrible at talking to people? “I’d like that, just so you know.”

“Oh. Okay. Yeah, of course.”

Alex looks embarrassed, but something about the way she’s holding her arms to her chest, how she bites her lip, tells Jonas that despite her words, she’s reluctant. 

Reluctant, yes—but then she glances at him and smiles, shoulders drooping a bit.

And relieved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd _this_ officially marks the last part of this fic I've actually typed out. I know. _Staggering_ progress. Will I muster the self-discipline to continue? Meh. If you guys like it? Sure.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God. It wasn't until I decided to post the next chapter that I saw that today marks a year _exactly_ since my last update. What are the odds the motivation would hit me today of all days? I have a few fics that I haven't updated, but none of them are abandoned, including this one. I just tend to get in my head, planning out the story almost obsessively and then hitting writer's block several thousand words in the future. 
> 
> So, yeah. _out (but not free)_ is not abandoned! I plan on finishing it eventually, I'm just less motivated to make it a priority when I don't receive much feedback.
> 
> That being said, part of what made me update was re-reading the comments you guys left before. I doubt anyone's still following this story, but if anyone from the good old days happens to notice this update--this chapter is for you! Thank you!

Alex isn't holding up well, and she's not even doing a good job of hiding it. Her thoughts tend to spiral even when she's happy, turning dark and depressed, and the nightmares haven't stopped. She can't sleep, and she's pulling away from her friends and family—rather unsubtly, too.

It's awful, and frustrating, and she's getting so sick of herself that she wants to _scream,_ but she can't help it. The noose she'd tied around her neck nearly a month ago is slowly tightening and she can feel it's phantom touch every second she's alone.

The only consolation is that things are different, changing. Time is moving for once, and that's enough to shake her from her dark thoughts when they border on suffocating.

The strangest thing isn’t seeing Michael. It’s not waking up in her bed instead of the ferry, or going to school. It’s not seeing her parents smiling at one another across the table or Clarissa acting civil.

It’s the _looks._ Or, rather, the _lack_ of looks.

Alex hadn’t realized how used to them she’d gotten until they were gone. But now when she’s in town or in class, there’s no one sneering or whispering behind her back, too low to hear but words and thoughts clear as day.

_Murderer._

Alex had been labeled public enemy number one after Michael’s passing, as if she’d _wanted_ it to happen, like she’d _planned_ it. Everyone had hated her for ruining their town’s one good shot at having someone worth something come out of there, but then she’d snatched away all that potential before it could come to fruition. People were barely civil and kept their whole family at a distance, as if an untimely spill into the nearest lake was inevitable if they strayed too close. It was no wonder dad had left.

But now? Now it’s the usual nods and smiles, the occasional question after her plans for further schooling, or, more commonly, what Michael’s plans were for after graduation.

Alex smiles to their faces but unease makes the words heavy, clumsy in her mouth. She’s doesn’t miss the censure, but...she’d be lying to say she didn’t deserve it. Doesn’t still deserve it. And now she just feels guilty. Like she’s lying to everyone’s face. She wants to reach out and shake their shoulders, yell as loud as she can that she’s a monster, a disgusting creature that plays god with people’s lives and really thought she could get him back without losing something in return.

“Oh, Alex! How are you?”

Alex withholds a cringe, pasting a happy look on her face as she turns around. Of course, she could avoid the whole thing if she just stayed home, but her mother had pulled her aside last week and said how she was worried. About how long it sometimes took Alex to focus on the present when she spaced, about how much time she spent in her room and the nightmares that seemed to have cropped up out of nowhere.

Bad as that had been, nothing had been worse than Michael’s eyes on her, worried and anxious, all traces of his usual happiness gone from his face as he stood with her, his warm hand on her shoulder. He didn’t say much, but it didn’t matter. Alex recognized that look and knew a Talk was in her future, and soon.

And she had no fucking clue what she would say.

“Hi, Mrs. Stevenson. How are you?”

Her greeting is so limp and half-hearted it sounds like a piece of wilted lettuce, but Mrs. Stevenson just beams.

"Oh, fine, dear. I can see I'm not the only one who wanted to take advantage of this nice day to take a walk. How was your break? I imagine you spent time with your friends."

"Yeah—" _the slick walls of the cave, the shine of red eyes in the darkness,_ "—Just...hung around, mostly."

Mrs. Stevenson nods. "Of course, that's what kids seem to do these days. But don't spend too much time lazing around, senior year is right around the corner for you! Have you thought of what college you'll go to after this?"

Alex opens her mouth, but no sound comes out. The truth is no, she really hasn't. Or, if she did, that was a girl far, _far_ in the past, who still _could_ dream of the future. She's spent so much time living minute-to-minute, looping the same nightmare, that _planning for the future_ just stopped applying to her.

It still doesn't.

But she can't say _that,_ not without sounding like a crazy person. So, grieving for herself, she says, rather weakly, "Not really."

That earns her a disapproving look. "Well, start! I'm sure your brother already knows where he's going, doesn't he?"

Alex's eyes widen, blindsided. Because he probably _has._ Alex doesn't know how much time she has with everyone, but she forgot that time moving forward meant everyone _else_ moving on with their lives. Micheal will leave. He'll probably go to New York with Clarissa, living an exciting new life, in love and free of his hometown, and Alex's time with him will be cut brutally short.

Suddenly, she can't get enough air.

She's already wasted so much _time._ She's been so focused on herself, dwelling on memories only she's retained, that she hasn't been enjoying the _now_ , the fruits of her sacrifice.

How can she be so ungrateful?

Belatedly, she realizes she needs to talk. The seconds are stretching, she's just staring ahead, and any minute now Mrs. Stevenson's frown will turn into something much more concerned. She'll gossip, and word will get around, and then her _parents_ will hear and they'll sit her down, make her _talk_ —

The loud roar of an old engine cuts through the silence, and Alex's head jerks up.

A beat-up, dark green truck rolls up to the curb, passenger window stopping just before her. Inside, Jonas leans across the seat, one wrist balanced casually on the steering wheel.

"Hey, Alex," he calls, a smile on his face. "Sorry I'm late, I had a thing." Jonas's eyes flicker imperceptibly between her and Mrs. Stevenson, and he raises his eyebrows slightly in a subtly probing look. Alex stares for a moment, nonplussed, but then comprehension crashes around her.

He's giving her an out. Somehow, some way, Jonas must have noticed her distress and came to her rescue.

As reluctant as she is to spend more time with Jonas, she's more than eager to escape forced, polite conversation.

"No, it's fine," Alex says, her voice only slightly leaden. She shoots an apologetic look at Mrs. Stevenson, taking a step towards Jonas's truck. "Sorry..."

Mrs. Stevenson flaps a hand at her. "No, no, it's fine, don't let me keep you. Just think on what I said, all right? Time waits for no man, after all."

Alex has to swallow a sharp, slightly manic laugh. "I will."

Alex hops in Jonas's truck, not relaxing until they've pulled away. She sighs then, deep and aggrieved, and sinks into the worn leather seat. She's nearly boneless in relief.

"I take it stopping was the right call, then?"

Alex shoots Jonas a grateful look. _"Definitely._ Thanks."

"No problem. You looked like you needed to bail. What was she talking about? Grandchildren?"

Alex grimaces at that. "No. _College."_

Jonas makes a low, understanding sound. "Gross."

"Yep." The moment of levity allows reality to truly sink in and Alex straightens, abruptly realizing she doesn't know where they're even going. "Oh. Um, sorry. You were probably in the middle of something."

Jonas shrugs. "I mean, I was just getting cigarettes. And my dad gave me his card so I have to pick up some groceries." He glances over. "You can come with, if it doesn't sound too boring. Are you busy?"

"Uh—I guess not?" Alex blinks, trying to catch up to the situation. "Are you sure? You can just drop me off wherever if you want. You don't have to keep me company. You did your civic duty."

Jonas chuckles. "Nah, come with," he insists. "I hate grocery shopping. You can distract me from the tedium."

Alex wants to. She _really_ wants to. But spending more time with Jonas...even the few times she's seen him since they came back to Camena have been painful.

But on the other hand, she's missed him terribly.

"Well, I do owe you one..."

Jonas smiles, satisfied. "Yes. Yes, you do."

Alex has never gone grocery shopping with anyone other than her parents, and she's surprised by how fun it is with Jonas. They trade jokes and playful nudges as they prowl the aisles and when they pass a display of sunglasses, Jonas tries a pair on that has two little chains hanging off the middle, balancing a little plastic mustache over his upper lip. He purses his lips in an impressive duck face and leans down, looking at her over the top.

"How do I look?"

Alex snorts, then laughs, bright and free and more genuine than she can remember doing in a long, long time. It's all so new, she finds herself taken aback by the fact she can't predict the next thing he says, can't feel the tell-tale itch of déjà vu.

She's lived her life a bit past the island, she knows, but each loop makes the memories blurry and indistinct, teasing wisps of hope that disappate like a cruel mirage. It's actually a bit alarming now, here in the moment. She'd never truly believed she'd make it this far...

"Alex?"

Alex starts, forcefully dragged into the present. Jonas has put away the glasses, his dark brows furrowed in concern.

"Are you okay?"

Fear makes her heart lurch in her chest, afraid of that tell-tale worry she can see in Jonas's dark eyes.

_Stupid. Stupid, stupid!_ She's only kept herself away from Jonas for a few weeks, but apparently, it's been enough to make her forget how perceptive Jonas is.

Alex musters a smile, brushing Jonas off with a shrug. "I'm fine." She points at his phone, where he'd pulled up a shopping list. "What else do you have to get?"

Jonas blinks at her, then glances at his phone. "This is it."

Alex balks, looking from Jonas's face to his basket. "Dude, it's basically empty."

It's Jonas' turn to shrug dismissively. "We're more of a take-out family." His dark eyes flick away, somber. "Mom was the only one of us who could actually cook..."

He trails off and a wave of sympathy makes Alex's chest ache. A phantom lullaby echoes between her ears, along with vision's of Jonas's pleading, desperate eyes, the sharp, panicked loneliness that hit her the moment he'd disappeared.

"Well!" Alex snatches the shopping basket from Jonas, marching off with determination. "Not tonight!"

After a belated moment of surprise, Jonas catches up to her in a second with his freakishly long legs, expression bewildered as she starts weaving through the store, throwing ingredients into the basket haphazardly.

"Um, what are you doing?" he asks, slightly wary.

"I'm going to cook for you guys," Alex decrees. "I still owe you for the rescue, after all. After this, we'll be even."

"Whoa, hey," Jonas raises his palms as if to calm a wild beast. But it's much too late; Alex was basically raised by her brother, and nurturing is in her very nature. "That's really not necessary, seriously—"

Alex shakes her head. "It really is. It makes me want to cry, imagining you and your dad eating pizza every night."

Grumbling, Jonas stuffs his hands into his pockets. "It's not every night. Sometimes we have Chinese."

Alex laughs. "Oh, my mistake, I'm so sorry."

Jonas shoots her a glare, but his smile ruins the effect. He bumps her shoulder.

"Shut up."

They both grin, and Jonas doesn't protest again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm _super curious_ to hear your reactions to this chapter! I plan on doing a lot more Alex/Jonas interactions, not to mention how Alex's behavior is affecting the others. Trust me, it gets better from here!
> 
> Want more? Comment and let me know! ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿


	4. Chapter 4

She really, _really_ didn't think this through.

Alex stands in Jonas's home, squeezing her burden of plastic grocery bags in reflexive discomfort as she's (re)introduced to Jonas's father, David.

To him, she's a new face, but all she can see are a slew of random, intimate details she shouldn't know playing behind her eyes like a creepy movie reel. Like his expression when he's looking at her mother, eyes fond and so in love. She knows that he can't articulate until he's had his morning coffee, and that he's a die-hard Dallas Cowboys fan, no matter how rough the season may be.

Alex can still remember the wedding photo of him and her mom, smiling brightly before the modest altar on the cruise ship where they'd eloped.

It's awkward. _So_ awkward. But she pushes past it, introducing herself with a firm handshake. She holds the groceries up, giving them a slight, sheepish shake.

"Yeah, I kinda made Jonas bring me here, which was pretty rude in hindsight." She shoots Jonas an apologetic glance. "But I was going to cook dinner, if that's all right? Jonas kinda used your money to pay for this stuff..."

David blinks. He gestures dismissively, smiling in the next moment.

"Hey, if you're going to cook for us sorry men, the least I can do is fund it."

Alex shoots Jonas a narrow-eyed look. "That's what Jonas said when he paid..."

David grins. "I raised him right," he says proudly.

Jonas leads her to their small kitchen. For two men, it's really not that bad. A little messy, but the sink only has a few cups in it instead of the mountain she was expecting.

"We don't really use the kitchen that often, so feel free to use whatever."

"Okay, cool."

Alex refuses to let any awkwardness set in, unpacking the groceries she needs and poking through their cabinets to pull out a skillet and pot. She puts them both on the stove and starts in on boiling some water.

Jonas hops up onto the counter, watching her curiously, leg swinging idly back and forth.

"What are you making?"

"Nothing special." Her expression is appropriately humble when she adds, "I actually don't cook that much at home, so this is really the only thing I can make that's decent."

"I trust you," Jonas tells her. "And if I die of food poisoning, at least I'll know your heart was in the right place."

Alex smiles. "You won't die. Probably."

It's quiet for a few seconds as she adds rice to the pot and rummages for a cutting board.

"What's the bell pepper for?"

"Dinner."

"I know that; what are you using it _for?"_

"Cooking."

One look at Jonas's unimpressed expression has Alex cracking up.

"I'd say sorry, but I really wouldn't mean it. Here, how about you help instead of bothering me with questions?"

Jonas makes a show of hopping down and rolling up his sleeves. "Putting me to work in my own home, huh?"

"You bet your ass, I am. Get a knife."

Jonas is a quick study. For someone who claims not to cook very often, he's pretty good at it. Alex has him cutting, mostly, slicing chicken thighs and peppers, but he's attentive and seems genuinely interested.

It's all going fine until Alex is reminded of exactly how small the space they're working in is, cooking side by side as they are.

She's holding a bowl laden full with all the chicken. She's just finished seasoning it, and twists to the stove. But Jonas is there, turning towards her after dumping his peppers into the skillet, and they bump into each other. The only thing that keeps her from dumping the bowl's contents all over his shirt are his hands, flying up to her upper arms to brace and hold her still.

"Whoa! All right?" This close, Alex can see flecks of green in Jonas hazel eyes. He's suddenly _all_ she can see, swallowing up every bit of her world, and his hands are so warm on her skin they feel like brands.

Alex's throat is dry and she forces her eyes down and away, suddenly afraid of what her expression will betray.

"I—I'm good," she manages, stepping back and around him. "Sorry."

She prays Jonas can't tell she's blushing.

Cooking is—thankfully—uneventful after that little incident. Especially with Alex taking care to make sure they don't stray too close again. It's honestly a miracle she doesn't burn anything with Jonas apparently trying his hardest to distract her at every turn with jokes and little anecdotes of his more fond memories of North Valley.

She shoos Jonas away once she's done, dishing out three servings and bringing them to the table in two trips. She's thanked profusely and despite it all, Alex finds herself nervous, holding her breath as they both take a bite. She knows it's good, meat and a glorified gravy served over rice, but a sudden bought of insecurity plagues her, conjuring images of them choking, screwing their faces up in disgust—

"Oh, wow," Jonas says, eyes wide. "This is _really_ good." He looks at his bowl doubtfully. "I really helped make this...?"

David just hums in appreciation, raising his free hand to give Alex the 'a-okay' gesture, thumb and pointer finger pinched together. The two of them attack their food with the single-minded focus of men on a mission and Alex relaxes, pleased.

"It's pretty simple, actually, anyone could make it."

"It's delicious," David insists. "Honestly, Alex, I haven't had food this good in a long while."

Pleased, she gives a theatrical sigh. "Well, I guess it isn't the _worst_ thing I've ever tasted."

David laughs. "A good cook and modest? How are you friends with Jonas?"

Alex smiles with a shrug. Her expression is sly when she looks across the table at Jonas.

"He's not so bad," she says. To her everlasting delight, Jonas flushes. He makes a face at her, but he fails to hide his own smile.

They refuse to let Alex do any dishes once they've all had their fill and she's left with no choice but to concede. She stands to leave and David shakes her hand.

"You're welcome anytime, okay?"

"Thanks."

David takes the dishes away and before she can say goodbye to Jonas, he speaks first.

"Hey, were you going to walk home?"

"Um, yes?"

"Let me drive you," Jonas offers, and Alex is already shaking her head, alarmed.

"No, it's fine, I mean—I don't live that far." Which is a bald-faced lie, but today has already become a whole _thing_ with much more social interaction than she'd ever planned on. She just wants some fresh air, some peace and quiet.

But Jonas doesn't seem to care about her mental well-being, because he frowns and insists, "Well, I don't know the area as well as you. I don't want to make you walk alone at night, not when it's getting late. Besides, it'll give me peace of mind."

Alex wants to protest more, but there's no way to do so without causing a scene or being rude. Reluctantly, she agrees. "Yeah. All right."

She says her goodbyes to David and is in the truck in a few minutes time, quietly giving Jonas her address.

"Mind if I smoke?" he asks, holding up the pack with a deferential glance her way.

They're in his car, but she appreciates the consideration. "No, it's cool."

The silence is broken only by the sound of his lighter, of the cigarette catching, and the slight breeze of the window when he lowers it. He doesn't turn the radio on and Alex is too relieved to make mention of it; she still flinches every time she hears the familiar static, dread turning her heart to ice, each second of white noise a prelude to pain and cruel, twisted games.

_"The forceful removal of an ignorant people to make space for destined holders is a time-honored tradition in our still-young country." The sharp crackle of static, the high-pitched whine of a frequency that didn't—shouldn't—exist. **"And you will be a part of that heritage, Alex.** Do not resist."_

"Alex!"

Alex jerks, heart racing, skin cold and clammy.

Her surroundings crash into her, the truck, Jonas—watching her, worried, with the acrid smell of nicotine permeating the air. They aren't moving. Outside, her house waits patiently. She's chilled by the thought that she has no idea how long they've idled here.

Alex closes her eyes and spares a single second of frustrated despair. She's losing time now, backsliding into flashbacks.

_Get it together._

Okay. She's dropped the ball, there's no escaping that fact. But they're still just barely friends, he'll probably drop it if she does.

Alex fixes her gaze blindly out the window, staring at her house without seeing it. "Thanks for the ride," she says, voice only slightly unsteady.

Her fingers wrap around the handle, but a touch to her shoulder freezes her.

"Alex." Warily, Alex meets Jonas's gaze. He's serious, dark eyes searching her face for some clue into what she's thinking, and she swallows. "Whatever's bothering you, you can talk to me about it, yeah? I can tell something's up."

"What? No, I'm fi—"

"You're shaking," Jonas says, voice gentle but firm.

_Shit._ He's right. She'd been so focused on Jonas, gauging how much he was buying her words, that she hadn't even noticed.

Caught, she can't speak. Doesn't know what to say, to make him stop asking, to make this all go away.

_I'm ruining everything._

Jonas removes his hand and Alex experiences a moment of relief; Jonas is letting it go, just like she wants, and she can go back to pretending that everything's normal, that she's normal.

She goes rigid, however, when something drapes over her back and shoulders. She looks down, uncomprehendingly, at the army-green jacket pooling by her hips. Tentatively, she grasps the folds, looking over at Jonas in surprise.

He leans back, exhaling a plume of smoke out of the open window, gesturing vaguely to where he'd grabbed the coat from the back seat.

"Figured you were cold," he says quietly, watching her with understanding. "Just take it. It'll make me feel better." Neither one of them point out that it's nearly April, and a sudden wave of overwhelming gratitude keeps Alex from giving it back.

The moment she'd realized she was still clinging to Michael's coat like some sort of pseudo-security blanket, she'd forced herself to return it—as if it would help keep her from living in the past.

But now Jonas has given her a part of him, however small, and at this point, she's too desperate for some form of simple comfort to refuse.

Very quietly, so that she doesn't betray herself with a cracking voice, she says, "Thank you."

Jonas smiles. "No problem." His smile wilts a bit. "Just...take care of yourself."

Alex looks away, hands tightening into fists in her lap. She hops out of the truck after a moment, and tosses a "Goodnight, Jonas," over her shoulder as she slams the door.

But she's not quick enough, and can hear how softly Jonas says her name when he calls, "Goodnight, Alex."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOY. Lemme tell you how much it CREEPED ME OUT the first time I played Oxenfree and heard that particular message on the radio. *shudders* Just remembering it gives me a case of the heebies. Who wouldn't be messed up after dealing with all that?
> 
> First off, thank you for all the comments/kudos! They really help motivate me to keep writing, and right now, I really need it. I'm just so incredibly fatigued all the time, to the point where I WANT to get up, I WANT to write, but it's as if my body's just—shutting down on me. It sucks. So if you're still reading this, thanks, and this is why my updates are so infrequent. Still. It's a personal goal of mine not to give up on any of my fics, not matter how long that may take. So your patience will be rewarded!
> 
> Secondly, don't think I'm ignoring your comments if you've left one; I read all of them, several times over in a week, and they really brighten my day. I don't respond unless I get a really emotional or lengthy one, but all of them motivate me to keep working, and why I usually request them at the end of each chapter. They help me gauge interest and help me decide which of my WIPs I should prioritize. (so leave a comment *cough cough*)
> 
> Okay, that's everything off the top of my head I wanted to say. Thanks again! (￣∇￣)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God. I always feel so guilty when I see _exactly_ how long it takes me to update. （πーπ）I've been sick, and dealing with some changes at home, family drama and whatever, but I really wanted to put out another update since I'm about to go on vacation. And it's a Jonas chapter! You guys like those, right? ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

It's coming up on a full hour of staring, but his text box remains stubbornly blank, the contact name _Alex_ glaring back at him accusingly, calling him a coward.

Groaning, Jonas flops back on his bed. Disgusted with himself, he flings his phone away, refusing to waste another second torn in indecision.

"What's _wrong_ with me?" It's just a text. It's really not a big deal.

Except...it is. It _totally_ is. He just saw Alex yesterday, but he just can't stop thinking about her. Before, she'd been this mild, occasionally bright awareness just hovering on the edge of his subconscious. He'd been curious, but content to leave her be.

But now that they've spent time together? Oh, it's over. He's constantly bombarded with memories of her mischevious, pleased smile, the brush of her teal hair on his shoulder when she'd leaned close over the cutting board, the flush on her dark skin when they'd complimented her cooking—all of it stayed with him, as well as the niggling tug of something almost _familiar._

More than anything, however, he keeps coming back to that moment in his truck, how her eyes had gotten so big when he'd offered his coat. He could visibly _see_ the tension draining out of her when he'd stopped pressing her for details, and the stark relief that had been in her gaze—that look had kept him from sleep for a long time last night.

Something's up, he's sure of it. He doesn't know what, or why, but it's driving him crazy. Those few moments when she thought he wasn't paying attention, or when she'd zone out and her expression would go all distant and sad—it's clear she's struggling with something and Jonas can't help but want to be the person she turns to with her problems, who's there for her and helps her deal.

But really, what could he do? She'd tensed more than once, slapped on a convincing smile and a nonchalant shrug so easily it was worrying, like hiding was second-nature. As much as Alex seemed to tolerate his presence, it's clear she doesn't trust him. If he wants to help her, get her to confide in him, he's going to have to be careful, subtle. Otherwise, anything more overt will just have her shutting down on him.

 _Oh, God._ He's going to fuck this up. But he has to try. He's never been one for the long-game but Alex...he's got a feeling she's worth the effort.

Jonas starts violently when his phone vibrates and for a second he feels a rush of excitement.

 _Alex._ But then logic comes back and he remembers he got Alex's number from Ren when they'd first met. He'd insisted on filling Jonas's phone with everyone's number, so that he wouldn't be the new guy anymore.

_"See? Can't be the loner new guy when you've got Camena High's Coolest in your contacts list."_

So he _could_ text Alex, everyone knew he had their numbers, but he just _can't._ It feels weird without her permission. And since he hasn't mustered the will to text her, she wouldn't have his number yet. So there was really only one person who could, or would, text him.

_**Yo, JoJo! Some of us are going bowling tonight if ur down??? it's at 9 #BTHEREORBSQR** _

Jonas smiles and sends back a sedate, _cool, see you there,_ and ignores the stirrings of hope at the thought of possibly seeing Alex again, so soon.

Okay. No more thinking. It's Sunday, and Jonas doesn't _actually_ plan on spending the day moping.

With his dad at home and his circle of friends resembling more of a depressingly short line, Jonas settles in for an afternoon of vegging out and playing video games. He could text Ren some more, he supposes, but after all that time in juvie, he's kind of lost his touch with small talk. Nothing like being shushed within an inch of your life to kill the urge to speak up.

 _Everything's gonna be fine,_ he reassures himself. _I'm just a guy, slightly obsessed with a girl who barely remembers my name._

Yeah. No big deal.

* * *

 

"Jonas! My main man! My compatriot! My bosom buddy! So glad you could make it!"

Ren slings an arm around Jonas' shoulder, forcing him to hunch over awkwardly. Jonas shrugs him off with a smile, shaking his head.

"Can't you just say hi like a normal person?"

Ren scrunches up his nose, expression full of distaste. "Where's the fun in that?"

The bowling alley has this nostalgic feeling, new yet familiar at once, from the faded striped paint on the walls to the neon, retro carpet. The scent of nachos permeates the air and the cacophony of arcade games is only barely drowned out by the actual bowlers.

Ren hangs around the counter while Jonas pays for his game and shoes, talking a mile a minute. In seconds, Jonas is caught up on all the school gossip, Ren's tentative plans to buy a longboard, and a rave review for the mall's new pretzel stand.

He's led to their area, one of the last lanes in the building, and spots Nona, craning her neck upwards as she inputs their names into the scoreboard.

Ren practically floats to her, beaming, arms held out wide.

"Nona! My love! My sweet, my darling! I've missed you so!"

Ren envelops her in a hug from behind, nuzzling the side of her face and placing an over-the-top kiss on her giggling cheek.

Nona playfully swats at him, blushing. Their relationship is so new, but even Jonas can tell her flush isn't as deep as it was a week ago. She must be getting used to the PDA.

"Seriously, Ren? It's been, like, two minutes."

"I know," Ren agrees, sounding gutted. "It's been awful. Let's agree to never part again."

"Oh my God."

Normally, a scene like this would make Jonas gag. But knowing how crazy and exuberant Ren is, and how shy Nona typically can be, makes the whole thing more funny than obnoxious. It's kinda nice, really. They genuinely seem happy together.

Still. That doesn't mean he should let them think it's _okay._

"Don't mind me," Jonas says, tugging on his bowling shoes. God, he forgot how ugly these things are. "Just getting scarred for life over here."

"Sorry about him," Nona apologizes, elbowing Ren away so she can get back to work. She smiles at Jonas. "How's it been, Jonas?"

"Eh. Same old, same old. Is it...just the three of us then?" Jonas chickens out and can't bring himself to ask after Alex specifically.

"Yup. Michael and Clarissa are having a date night and Alex flaked. _Again."_ There's no mistaking the annoyance in Ren's tone, the bitterness in his eyes, and Jonas can't help but take note.

It's also a bit disappointing—okay, a lot disappointing that Alex won't be here, but it's not like he's considering the night ruined; Ren and Nona are pretty cool, cool enough that he can endure being the third wheel.

Aiming for unassuming, Jonas points out, "You sound kinda pissed. Has she been doing this a lot or something?"

Ren immediately starts glaring. Not at Jonas, but kind of into the middle distance, angry in general.

"She didn't _use_  to. She's just— _ugh!"_ Ren throws his arms up and Nona shoots him a worried glance. "She's been so _weird_ lately! She _never_ wants to hang out, she's skipping classes _all the time,_ and whenever I _try_ to talk to her about it I just get stonewalled like some tool or whatever! I mean, we're supposed to be best friends, but suddenly she can't talk to me? What's _that_ about?"

Ren throws himself down on one of the hard seats, expression dark and troubled. "I'm really worried about her, you know? Internalizing all this stuff isn't good for her, and neither is closing herself off. I'm about ready to tear my hair out over here!"

So it's worse than Jonas had suspected if Alex won't even talk to her _best_ _friend_ about her issues. Glass half full, though, at least he's not crazy, imagining all this like he'd begun to doubt.

Jonas claps his hands together. "Well. That just means we have to get annoying." Ren looks up, and he earns a curious look from Nona, too. "Seriously. She can't avoid us if we don't take no for an answer, right?"

"That's true," Nona agrees. "Besides, we need another girl to level out the testosterone."

"I like the way you think," Ren says, smiling. He flaps his hand at Jonas. "You text her. She's been on a shorter fuse lately, so I'd rather not be the one who pisses her off." Ren nods to himself in thought. "Yeah, I like that. You spam her, and then I'll swoop in like the great best friend I am, all 'Oh, I know, that Jonas guy— _eugh!_ What a jerk, am I right?' It's foolproof!"

"Right," Jonas says dryly. But his heart races in his chest; that was permission, that was definitely permission to text Alex. He's not letting the opportunity go to waste.

_come bowling. don't abandon me to third-wheel status_

Belatedly, he realizes he didn't explain who he was, but is too paralyzed by indecision to send a second text; this was a mistake. He should have made Ren text her.

 _ **I'm good.**_ The response pulls him from his downward spiral, and he frowns.

_aleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeex. just come! not taking no for an answer, I bet ur not even busy_

**_Busy sleeping. Which you're interrupting._ **

_not sorry. besides, it's not even 10. live a little._

_**I'm just really tired.** _

Jonas frowns. He can't tell if he's being annoying or not. But...he glances at Ren.

He's counting on Jonas right now. He has to give it one last try.

_i call bs. you don't have to be insecure about how bad u r at bowling, we won't laugh. srsly, don't make me come get u._

It's a threat no matter how you look at it, but Jonas feels it's necessary. They clearly aren't getting anywhere being polite. It's time to fight dirty.

A few minutes pass without a response, long enough that Jonas worries Alex hates him.

Then, finally, _ **Okay, Pushy! Be there soon.**_

Jonas sighs, relieved. "Oh, thank God."

"What? What's up?" Ren drops into the seat next to Jonas, watching him eagerly. Jonas musters a smile, holding up his phone and giving it a little shake.

"She's on her way."

Ren cheers, grinning. "That's seriously the best news I've had all week. Jonas, you're a godsend."

"I know, I know, you're very lucky to have met me."

"Don't I know it! Now sit there and look pretty while I school you on how to bowl like a master."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I haven't gotten around to responses yet (hopefully I can sit and do that once I'm on vacation) but seriously, thank you so much to everyone for commenting! I got some more writing done because of your kind and considerate words and I'm working hard not to disappoint any of you!


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